Astrid, have you been keeping My place with men now reaping Clearings at rain-flowered farm? You always kept our secret warm, Keeper of my stove-seat there, Kitten-scolding-cousin, and fair. Dreaming tells you what's coming, Rumour Days to you aren't numbing: Ten years ago in Tromso snow, Child new-birthed, and you should know I'd come to your husband's door That same day, and wanderer-poor. You weren't expecting the lost boy, My father's son was your joy: Grandma's girl who knew so much; And remembered our allegiance such. Astrid, have you been keeping My place with men now reaping Clearings at berry-hunting farm? Do you bring coffee and cake warm From the kitchen in chilled, night sun To a field where hay's still undone? This pen is my rake leaning now As I stop labor to vow Enough for striving, I'll come in: Can a man hope more to win Than a roof and bench ready Stood for by fair looks so steady?